Chapter 6
SHE HATES ME, SHE HATES ME NOT…
DALLAS
The thing about expensive whiskey is that it tastes the same whether you're celebrating or commiserating. I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, watching the light from the Bellagio's chandelier dance across its surface.
“You're brooding,” Matt said, signaling the bartender for another round.
“I'm thinking.” I took a sip, letting the burn slide down my throat. “There's a difference.”
“Right, and the difference would be?”
“Brooding is what you do when you're angsty. Thinking is what intellectuals do.”
Matt snorted so hard he nearly choked on his beer. “Intellectuals? Brother, you got dropped on your head too many times last month. I'm pretty sure you've got permanent brain damage.”
“So remind me why we're here instead of literally anywhere else?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Because Brooke wanted somewhere classy for her bachelorette party kickoff.” Matt's grin was the same one he wore right before he executed his signature move in the ring. “And because her best friend insists on torturing you.”
Ah yes. Davina.
Just hearing her name made my jaw clench. The woman had decided I was the Antichrist the moment we met at Matt and Brooke's engagement party. I'd made the mistake of existing, and she'd looked at me like I was the gum on the bottom of her designer shoe.
A blonde in a black dress, with less fabric than I wore in the ring, sidled up to the bar. She had that look, the one I'd seen a thousand times. Recognition flickered in her eyes.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, touching my forearm with her fingertips. “You're The Dominator. I've seen all your matches.”
“That's flattering,” I said, gently extracting my arm and angling my body toward Matt. “But I'm just here with my buddy tonight.”
“I could join you both?” She leaned in, and her perfume tried to suffocate me.
“We're waiting for people.”
“I could wait with you.”
Matt was hiding his grin behind his beer like the terrible friend he was.
“I appreciate the offer, but…”
“Is that Dallas Dodger?” Another woman appeared, this one brunette, with the same hungry expression. “And Mataio Strickland? Can we get a picture?”
This was my life. Most days, I didn't mind. Tonight, I just wanted them gone.
I plastered on my media smile, the one I'd perfected for interviews and sponsorship deals. “Tell you what, ladies, we're about to have dinner, but if you catch us later…”
“We'll definitely catch you later,” the blonde purred, trailing a finger down my shoulder.
I waited until they'd sashayed away, giggling and glancing back, before I turned to Matt. “You couldn't have helped?”
“And miss that? Never.” He was laughing now. “The mighty Dallas Dodger, fending off women like he's swatting flies. Brooke's never going to believe this.”
“Don't you dare…”
“Oh, I'm definitely telling her.”
I was about to throw a napkin at him when I felt it, that prickle on the back of my neck that meant the energy in the room had shifted. I turned toward the entrance, and every coherent thought in my head promptly evacuated the premises.
Brooke appeared first, pretty in a pink dress that made her look like she was glowing. But it was the woman beside her who made me forget how to breathe.
Davina.
She wore a dress the color of deep wine, the fabric hugging curves that could cause traffic accidents. Her long blonde hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her lips, fuck, her lips, were painted the exact same shade as her dress. She moved with confidence.
She was stunning.
She was also glaring at me like I'd personally insulted her entire bloodline.
“Boys!” Brooke bounced over, kissing Matt's cheek. “Sorry we're late. Someone...” she shot a look at Davina, “...insisted on changing three times.”
“I was finding the right armor,” Davina said, her voice as smooth and sharp as aged whiskey. Her brown eyes fixed on me. “And it's not my fault the airline finally decided to deliver my lost luggage an hour ago.”
“She thought she was going to have to wear her leggings,” Brooke added with a grin. “But the delivery guy showed up just as we were about to leave.”
Davina smoothed the front of her dress. “Worth the wait..”
“You'd look good in a paper bag,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her eyes narrowed. “Hello, Dallas.”
The way she said my name should not have sent heat straight through me, but it did.
“Davidson.” I stood, because it seemed like the right thing to do. “You look...”
“Save it.” She held up a hand. “I've built up an immunity to your particular brand of charm.”
“I was going to say ready to break hearts,” I finished, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. “But if you want to tell me more about this immunity, I'm fascinated. Is there a vaccine? Should I be worried about side effects?”
Matt groaned. “And here we go.”
Brooke bit back a smile, looping her arm through Davina's. “Play nice, you two. We have a whole night ahead of us.”
“I'm always nice,” I said. “It's one of my most charming qualities.”
“Your most charming quality is your ability to be consistently wrong about yourself,” Davina shot back, but I caught the way her eyes flickered down to my arms, just for a second, before she looked away.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Matt caught my eye and shook his head in warning, but I just smiled wider. The night was young, the whiskey was smooth, and Davina Lawson was trying very hard not to look at me.
I'd been body-slammed, clotheslined, and thrown off a steel cage. I could handle one beautiful woman who thought she hated me.
Probably.
“Shall we?” I gestured toward the restaurant, and as we walked, I fell into step beside Davina, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume. Vanilla.
“You're walking too close,” she murmured, not looking at me.
“The hallway's narrow and I’m a big guy.”
“The hallway is twelve feet wide.”
“Is it? I hadn't noticed. I was too busy admiring the… architecture.”
She turned her head just enough to give me a withering look, and I caught the hint of a smile she was fighting.
The doors to the bar swung open again, and in walked Kali and James, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves despite being obviously late.
“Sorry we're late!” Kali called out. Her lipstick was freshly applied, but smeared outside the line on one corner.
James ran a hand through his dark hair, which definitely looked like someone else's fingers had been through it recently. “We had a... situation with the shower in our suite.”
Matt snorted into his beer. “A shower situation. That's what we're calling it now?”
“Absolutely,” James said with zero shame, his arm sliding around Kali's waist. “Very slippery. Required immediate attention.”
Kali elbowed him but couldn't stop grinning. “What my husband means to say is that we're very sorry to keep everyone waiting.”
“Three months married and you two still can't make it downstairs on time,” Brooke said, shaking her head with amusement.
“Congrats on making it out of your room alive,” I said, raising my glass. “Though I still think marriage is just an elaborate pyramid scheme designed to sell overpriced cake and ugly bridesmaid dresses.”
“Dallas,” Brooke warned, but she was smiling.
“What? I'm just saying, why mess with a good thing by involving paperwork and the government?”
“Some of us like the commitment,” James said, kissing Kali's temple.
“I'm committed,” I protested. “To avoiding alimony.”
“You'd have to convince someone to marry you first,” Davina said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that didn't reach her eyes. “And I don't see that happening anytime soon.”
“Wounded, Davidson. Truly wounded.” I placed a hand over my heart dramatically. “And here I thought you were starting to warm up to me.”
“Like frostbite warms up to gangrene.”
Matt clapped his hands together. “Alright, how about we take this delightful exchange to the restaurant before Dallas and Davina cause a scene?”
“Too late,” Kali whispered, nodding toward the blonde from earlier, who was now shooting daggers at Davina.
Yeah. This was definitely going to be fun.